


surely i said something less banal

by fillertexted



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fillertexted/pseuds/fillertexted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's exhausting when you can't slow down and just dig yourself into a bigger and bigger hole. </p><p>Alexander Hamilton is a perfect storm, and doesn't seem to know when to stop talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John's Misinterpretations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [barricadebastard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadebastard/gifts).



> hello yes this fic was spawned bc i saw [this](http://bemusedlybespectacled.tumblr.com/post/144756380596/so-im-reading-alexander-hamiltons-letters) at 1 am and couldnt stop thinking abt it  
> also this was betad by the amazingly talented [lafayettes_baguette](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lafayettes_baguette) pls shower them in praise bc i love them and they deserve the world  
> oh and vague mentions of child abuse in this, only twice and not in depth, just a warning

It seemed surprising at first, but when thought about logically, it made sense. Alexander talked a lot, talked constantly. He talked about important things, about senseless things, talked just to hear his own voice. He was personally offended every time people asked where his mute button was, and arguments tended to spill from his lips effortlessly, long winded but beautiful, and he would engage anything that moved in conversation.

Whenever talking wasn’t possible, Alexander texted.

A _bzzt_ sounded near him, and John blinked open his eyes. It was late, and he felt heavy, weighing down his limbs and mind, thick and disorientating. The few seconds of silence was enough to startle him when his phone buzzed again, bright screen lighting up the ceiling. Preparing himself to get semi blinded, he dragged it towards him, saw who it was, and suppressed the strong urge to both groan and cry; He just prayed that whatever Alexander wanted wouldn’t take over an hour. Alexander had done it many times before, and John wasn’t in a particularly chatty mood. He unlocked his phone.

 

[1:32] jOHn

[1:32] joHn

[1:32] jooOOHn

[1:33] pls john

[1:33} pls answer me??

[1:33] my dear pLEASe

 

John snorted inelegantly. Alexander Hamilton was fondly referred to as the neediest member of the squad for a reason.

 

_[1:33] hey b whats good_

[1:34] JOHN THANK fUCK

[1:34] YOU WOuLD nTO B E L I E V E the SHIT TJEFFS PULLED TODAY

[1:34] I AM a FUCKING stounded

[1:35] I DONT KNOW HOW IM ALIVE RN

[1:35] I MIghT BE DEAD ACTUALLY

[1:35] DEAR HELP

[1:35] but like only if u want to

[1:36] if ur busy thats cool too

[1:36] like im good

[1:36] actually??? nvm

[1:36] i stand by my 5th text pls answer

_[1:36] hello to you too_

_[1:37] but whyre we doin this here and not in the gc_

[1:37] actually?? good point im movin to the gc

  


It was annoyingly endearing, John thought as he saw and felt the slew of texts Alexander released onto the group chat, half of them incoherent, the other fully in caps. Alexander was a human firecracker, bright and loud. A quick scan of the flood led to the conclusion that Jefferson had taken a vague dig at Alexander, and Alexander had felt the need to express his discontent via loud argument and managed to get them both kicked out of class, thus making Jefferson irritated and setting Alexander off again. He also texted Alexander a bunch of childish insults, the screenshots revealed, and John didn’t understand why Alexander had taken the bait. Why Jefferson was texting Alexander at one in the morning was anyone’s guess. He decided to let Herc and Laf deal with it, because there was no way in hell he was discussing Jefferson, especially in the middle of the night.

For the most part, Alexander knew his faults and owned up to them. He knew he could be volatile, that he has an extreme fixation on legacy, and kept way too many bad habits to count. He knew he he could be intense, and had the tendency to be blunt and accidentally offend everyone within a five mile radius.

He would never in a million years, however, admit just how much he depended on the attention of his friends. If they were face to face, Alexander would always have some form of physical contact. An arm around someone’s shoulder, leaning against them. An ankle hooked around someone’s leg. Sometimes, the times when John both treasured and cursed his friendship, Alexander held hands. He constantly called them pet names, ranging from the sweet ones he called John, to the unimaginably horrific ones he called Laf. 

John could remember back when they first met, Alexander had tried to place his arm around his waist. Still haunted by his father’s influence, he had immediately flinched away, Alexander following suit. Alexander had started stammering apologies; syllables tripping over each other, eyes wide, before he fell silent, eyes on the floor, which just made John more freaked out, battling between remembering his father’s thinly veiled homophobia and seeing the one person who he had seen talk for literal hours suddenly become speechless. They did work it out, eventually, but Alexander still hesitated slightly every time he went to touch him, a fact he wished didn’t make him so sad.

Alexander also didn’t like to be reminded of how much he tended to seek out attention. Once, when Alexander had wrapped his arms around them during a movie night, Laf had jokingly compared him to a koala, and Alexander let go as though he had been burned, shuffling away and crossing his arms, glancing towards the floor.  His body language had become closed off and rigid, and he placed himself far away from the group. Unsure of what to do, they all left him alone, shooting searching glances in his direction every once in awhile. Alexander’s gaze stayed resolutely towards the television, not acknowledging them. They had ended movie night soon after that. The next time they all met up, Alexander was back to being clingy. They didn’t comment.

John’s phone began to buzz at a more rapid speed, and he sighed when he saw that the group chat had descended into general chaos. There was no way he was getting involved in that. He tossed his phone to the side and wove himself back into the blankets.

  


-0-

  


Thursdays tended to be the squad’s movie night, as it was nearly the only time everyone was free. Note the nearly. Herc had texted in the group chat early to let everyone know he had an impromptu assignment due Monday that required lots of embroidery and, unfortunately, couldn’t make it. He did, however, suggest watching Hercules, for obvious reasons. Laf simply texted ‘;)’ and left it at that. It was clear they wouldn’t make it. Alexander, however, texted so many movie suggestions that Laf sent an error riddled text that basically read ‘gdi alex i dont need another vibrator’.

Alexander didn’t send another text, and John felt unsettled. He knew they sometimes hooked up, but they had never texted in the moment. John never really thought too much in depth about what went down in Laf’s sex life, and if he thought about it anymore, he was probably going to do something he’d regret. Like ask to join. He texted Alexander instead.

  


_[8:23] what movie do you really want to watch_

[8:23] eeehhhhhhhhh

[8:23] can we watch a tv show instead

_[8:23] what tv show do you really want to watch_

[8:23] can we watch friends

_[8:23] sure_

  


And so, John found himself with a lapful of Alexander fifteen minutes later, a random _Friends_ episode playing. He was trying to concentrate on the episode, he really was, but Alexander was a warm and solid weight leaning against him, grounding and familiar. He relaxed further into the couch, forcing Alexander down with him. John felt a huff of laughter, and he wrapped his arms around the other, nuzzling the side of his neck. He felt a sigh, and soon Alexander flipped himself, tucked between John and the back of the couch. He placed his face into the crook of John’s neck, warm breath making him shiver slightly. John tapped his back.

“You okay?”

Alexander mumbled in response, too low to hear, and buried his head further. He felt stiff. John just held him tighter. He would talk, eventually, but for now, offering blind comfort was all that John could think to do. The volume of the episode was fairly low, and a calm air filled the room. John moved his hand and began to gently trace patterns on his back, absent doodles and words that if visible would be incriminating. He could feel Alexander relaxing in increments, and between the soft warmth and mindless tracing, he fell into a doze.

After a particularly long laugh track, Alexander lifted himself off John with a heavy inhale, sitting sideways on his lap so his feet touched the ground. John blinked before he sat up as much as he could without jostling Alexander, right hand behind him for balance, left hand tentatively finding Alexander’s. Alexander’s eyes darted over to him for a moment before returning to the mostly ignored episode. John still didn’t know what it was about. He was about to ask if he was okay again when Alexander turned his gaze onto John again, gaze sharp, almost predatory. John resisted the urge to swallow nervously, instead tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. Alexander abruptly placed a warm palm on his chest, and John felt an old panic surface within him, before he smashed it down. It was just Alexander; he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt him.

He _would,_ however, place his left knee next to John’s hip, effectively straddling him, which did several things for him. His arm felt shaky, so he placed his other hand behind him for structural integrity. He wasn’t sure it was really working, but it had the added bonus of hiding his trembling hands. He hoped Alexander didn’t try to sit down. Alexander leaned forwards, and John felt his face heat up, basically a beacon for his embarrassment. Alexander’s eyes narrowed further. As quickly as it happened, it stopped, and it took a few moments for his brain to notice that Alexander had both gotten off him and was quickly striding away, hands pulling on his shoes. _Shit._

“Alex!”

John was never so thankful for his affinity for oversized tee shirts as he was in that moment; the material came down to his thighs, covering an otherwise embarrassing problem. Alexander stilled for a moment, but he continued to pull on his shoes, albeit more slowly. John fought to not breathe out a sigh of _some_ emotion. He didn’t know which or what. He was still recovering. His face was still pinker than it normally was.

“Alex.” He repeated, and when had he gotten so close? It was too late to back away now, though; Alexander had turned to face him, dark eyes carefully blank. John discreetly bit the inside of his cheek.

“Why are you trying to leave?”

Alexander scoffed, and stepped away, finally finished with his shoes. He crossed his arms. “Why am I trying to leave? I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.” He really didn’t. John was the opposite of uncomfortable.

Alexander scoffed again, and let his arms drop. “It bothers you.”

John was a little hurt and a lot confused. Alexander knew that he would tell him if he ever got too close, if it got to be too much. “It doesn’t.”

Alexander’s eyes seemed to sparkle, then, and he strutted forwards, and air of confidence around him. John’s face, which had calmed down, flushed again, and become worse when Alexander snagged his wrist, grasp slight. Alexander leaned in, and he was so, so, _so_ tantalizingly close. He could lean in, and close the gap. He didn’t move. His eyes were wide, probably looking panicked. He felt his heart rate quicken. Alexander’s stormy gaze danced across his face before he let go, shoulders hunched inwards. He shuffled towards the door. Before it fell shut, John heard a muttered, ‘I knew it’, and with a _snick_ the door’s lock was back in place. Though it was just a wooden door, John felt like he had been left behind a cement wall; unbreakable, immobile.

A laugh track sounded, and John felt a miserable laugh bubbling up in his throat. The irony in this situation was hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u know that i fuckin love ot4  
> anyways bc im a sad sack of shit this fic is only going to go downhill but it ends happy
> 
> hmu on tumblr: [fillertexted](http://fillertexted.tumblr.com)


	2. Lafayette's Nonexistent Amour-Propre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda very vague ment of sh?? like, only hinting, in the third to last paragraph

Lafayette stared at the ceiling, on their back with their ankles crossed, fingers linked together. A twisted sheet lies on their waist, chest bare. Soft breathing was coming from beside them. They blinked. They could feel the dried sweat that covered their skin, unpleasantly sticky and suffocating. A sigh escaped them, and they tilted their head towards the other body that occupied the bed.

His features were relaxed, soft in sleep. His eyelashes brushed delicately at his cheeks, fluttering slightly as his eyes darted beneath shut lids. His body was curved towards Lafayette, arm vaguely outstretched, as if it could stop Lafayette from leaving purely from the unconscious act. What was his name, again? Lafayette was drawing a blank. They returned their gaze to the ceiling. It wasn’t even that late, probably closer to ten than twelve.

They knew why they did this. Why they would sometimes get a drink or two in the middle of the week, meet a pretty stranger, and lead them back to their place. They _liked_ to, first of all. It was fun to meet people, even if the most it led to wasn’t intelligent conversation. It was nice to be reassured about their body, their looks, even if they were misgendered most of the time. They could handle snide remarks from strangers.

They also did it because they were jealous. Lafayette didn’t know if that was quite the word they were looking for, but it was accurate. They were jealous of happy couples, couples who could casually peck their lover on the cheek, who could go on dates, who could look at the other person and know they were just as smitten. Was it wise to be prejudiced against such a large group of people who have done nothing? Probably not. They ran a heavy hand down their face.

Their crushes were getting out of hand. Lafayette knew this, of course. They knew it was unhealthy to seek random people to vent their frustration out on in pleasurable ways, but they had no idea if they could stop. What were they even doing? One night stands are only fun every once in a while, when they had a group of friends around them, egging them on, telling them to ‘ _break a leg_ ’. It was fun to boast the day after, sometimes with bruises to show just how pleasurable it was. Not every couple of days. Not often enough that it was basically expected of them to be off fucking someone. Not because they couldn’t get over unrequited love.

God, it was almost disastrous when their phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. The guy next to them had stopped his ministrations, growling at the intrusion. Lafayette hurriedly scrambled to pick up their phone, hands shaking with adrenaline and a sense of intrigue. It was Alexander, of course - who else would send ten uninterrupted texts in a row? – suggesting movies.

Lafayette’s heart sunk. It was Thursday. How had they forgotten? They had already vaguely texted they would be busy that night; they had seen Herc’s text. Their hands were shaking for entirely different reasons, now. They sent the most coherent text they could, before shutting down their phone and placing it back on the nightstand. They plastered a smirk back onto their face and turned to face the still unnamed man, the sultriest look they could manage decorating their features. They still wanted it, but they now felt a dull blade of guilt, slowly stabbing their heart. Later, they would deny moaning out a name that sounded very close to Alexander’s. The man above them seemingly didn’t notice, anyways.

It didn’t stop at Alexander, however, oh no. Lafayette had the pleasure to be hopelessly enamored with their other best friends, too. John, with his sunny disposition and a temper that matched Alexander’s. Hercules, with his sweet personality and ability to make the world seem that much brighter. Lafayette was personally screwed. Even if they somehow became the luckiest person on Earth and started dating one of them, they could never have them all, never be satisfied.

It was time to leave. Lafayette slipped out of the man’s bed, keeping a careful eye in case they needed to pause. It seemed the guy was a fan of passing out after sex, however, and didn’t even shift. They breathed a silent sigh of relief, and glanced around. It seemed they had accidently flung their clothes all across the room. So much for a quick escape. They debated texting the others as they dressed swiftly, but eventually decided against it. They didn’t think they could look anyone in the eye.

A last glance at the man still sleeping in the bed, and a murmured regret in French rung through the room.

“ _I’m sorry for using you._ ”

 

 

-0-

 

 

A quick shower and change of clothes later, and Lafayette was winding down. It was eleven, not a particularly bad time to pass out and forget they existed for a few hours. It was a rather inviting thought, actually. They were just shuffling bleary-eyed through their small living room, forever grateful they had opted for a single dorm, so it was totally justified the way they jumped and let out a tiny squeak when someone knocked, no, _pounded_ at their door desperately. It took a couple seconds to realize _hey, you’re not in any danger_ , and a couple more to actually hesitantly make their way to the door. Once open, though, they immediately retracted their earlier statement on not being in any danger, because a tiny fist was dangerously close to implanting itself into their chest. Then, they noticed who it was.

“Mon petit lion?”

“Laf,” and _God_ , Alexander did _not_ look good, “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything, or, or, if you don’t want to see me right now, oh God, I totally woke you up, didn’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Lafayette was not awake enough to deal with this. They were not calm enough to deal with this. Alexander was shaking, still mumbling under his breath, too quiet to properly hear. Whatever happened at movie night was obviously bad, and they just hoped Alexander would hold off on the waterworks. They weren’t sure how they would react in that situation, and had no desire to find out. Ignoring how much worse they could potentially make this situation, they set their hands on his shoulders, making him look up and fall silent.

“Mon coeur, I was just heading to bed, you’re not interrupting anything special. And I never mind seeing you.” What a bold faced lie; Lafayette could sometimes not handle how strongly they felt towards Alexander, and avoided him. It was shitty, but weren’t all of their coping mechanisms? Alexander, however, just seemed more distressed.

“I’m still bothering you, oh my God, I’ll just go, I’ll see you later,” He tried to duck out of Lafayette’s grip, but there was no way in _hell_ they were letting him leave in this state.

“Alexander, I can and I will manhandle you into this dorm if you don’t come willingly.”

Alexander still looked doubtful, but nodded, and Lafayette dropped their hands, instead using them to gesture inside. Alexander slid past them, and Lafayette’s arm felt warmer where Alexander had brushed up against it. They mentally shook themself. Now was not the time to get caught up in that. They gently shut the door.

Alexander stood by their couch, wringing his hands, eyes locked on their, frankly, hideous carpet. Lafayette knew this was a delicate situation. They couldn’t fuck this up. They plopped down on the couch, and drew their knees up to their chest before patting the cushion next to them. Alexander hesitated for a moment before sitting down, posture the straightest Lafayette had ever seen. Lafayette could barely remember a time where Alexander wouldn’t take every opportunity to cuddle, and would sometimes even force them to cuddle at inopportune times. What the fuck happened at movie night?

“Mon œuf, what happened?”

“Nothing.” Alexander responded.

“ _Don’t bullshit me, Alexander_.”

Alexander ran a hand through his hair, getting visibly agitated. He stared straight ahead, a frown on his face, hand slashing sharply through the air. “It’s movie night tonight, right? And you and Herc couldn’t make it, so I was just me and John. Which is fine. But…” He broke off, gaze becoming distant, hands in his lap with his nails digging into his palms. When it became clear that Alexander wouldn’t continue anytime soon, Lafayette nudged him.

“But?” They prompted.

“But I messed up. I made him uncomfortable. I made him uncomfortable but he never told me. Why didn’t he ever tell me? Aren’t we best friends?” Alexander’s knuckles were quickly becoming white, so Lafayette put their own on top of Alexander’s, making his gaze snap to them. They gently pried open his fists, awkwardly holding his palms. He turned to face them, tucking his legs underneath him. They really hoped they didn’t mess this up.

“Mon soleil, we would tell you if we were uncomfortable. And you two are attached at the hip; I don’t see why he would hide anything from you.”

“He did, though! He let me cuddle him but he was obviously uncomfortable! Fuck, I don’t know if he was doing it because he was trying to send a ‘fuck you’ to his father, or, or _what_ , but he didn’t _tell me_.”

Alexander was shaking again, eyes wide as he looked into their eyes earnestly, and Lafayette was out of their depth. They couldn’t help being curious, though.

“What makes you say he was uncomfortable? None of us mind your cuddles, mon ami.”

“He was tense and blushing, and he lied to my face, saying it doesn’t bother him when it _does_.”

Lafayette’s brain clicked the pieces together. _Of course_. John had a crush on Alexander. _John had a crush on Alexander._ If they were being honest with themselves, John and Alexander being together would make the most sense. The two were so similar, so like-minded. John could enforce good habits on Alexander, and Alexander could show John that sometimes words were better than fists.

Lafayette did not fit into that equation. Even on the off chance John and Alexander were polyamorous, they wouldn’t want to date them. They were insensitive, too wrapped up in themselves to actually consider the consequences of their actions, too emotionally distant. Alexander was still staring at them apprehensively. Now was not the time to have a mental breakdown.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“He probably won’t answer.”

“Not trying is already a non-starter, though.”

“I _can’t._ ”

Lafayette sighed. “I’m not sure what you wanted out of this conversation, then. That’s the only advice I can think to give.”

Alexander ripped his hands out of Lafayette’s, making them blink in surprise. They were even more surprised at the look on his face.

“Yeah, why should I expect _you_ of all people to understand the delicacies of friendship? All you do is fuck around.”

That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, and yet, there Lafayette was, tear ducts burning and an undeniably hurt expression on their face.

Alexander let out a ragged laugh, closer to a sob than anything. He ran a hand through his hair as he stood up, eyes on the front door. “Yeah, that’s rude, but it’s the truth. Why are we even friends? Half the time you tell me you’re busy it’s because you’re fucking someone. You never talk about anything significant. When was the last time we had a conversation that didn’t involve your escapades? Do you not care about us? About _me_?”

“Of _course_ I care,” They ignored the way their voice cracked, ignored the way they were shaking, ignored the tears that valiantly tried to stream down their face. “You’re one of my best friends; don’t I always put you guys above anything else?”

Alexander just snorted, back turned as he reached for the door handle. “Learn how to close your legs, then we’ll talk about loyalty.”

The door slammed shut, and Lafayette stared at it. They let the tears come. What the fuck just happened? Not only did Alexander attack them, he basically called them a slut. For what? Fuck if they knew. They ran an arm roughly across their cheeks. Alexander was probably just looking for the harshest words he could to hurt them, and boy did he succeed. Their heart felt shattered. God, they really didn’t need that.

They could deal with it though. They could get up, walk to their bedroom, ignore the temptations in the bathroom. Could collapse on the bed, force the resonating words Alexander had slung away, and pretend the pillow beneath their head wasn’t wet. They had done this before; heartbreak was nearly second nature to them now. They looked back down at the worn fabric that covered the couch cushions. It really wasn’t that difficult of a decision to make.

Only this time, they had no excuse for why they curled up on the cushion Alexander had previously occupied, other than because they were still irrevocably in love with the person who made them cry.

God, they were _pathetic_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really didnt think id be using my fading french knowledge on a fic abt the founding fathers, and on sappy gay pet names no less
> 
> @mlle c im so sorry i dont think i can ever look you in the eye again
> 
> hmu on tumblr: [fillertexted](http://fillertexted.tumblr.com)


	3. Hercules' Insight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its not all angst this time i promise
> 
> kinda short im sorry

Hercules loved to work with all different types of fabric; fashion was truly his passion. He loved it less when it cut into his social time, however.

Movie night was one of his favorite things that happened all week, but his project of embroidering several types of complex yet lightweight flowers and leaves onto the bottom hem of a silk shirt required a lot more attention and care than a normal shirt, to avoid weird runs and too obvious holes; not to mention it was a charmeuse silk shirt, too, and can and will be a bitch if he accidently tugged too hard or disturbed the threads too much. Long story short, it couldn’t be done in only three days. He had to skip movie night, regrettably, but at least he could finish the project without pulling several all-nighters. He would leave that to Alexander.

Halfway through a rather large and time-consuming leaf, his phone buzzed, causing him to stab himself. Not anything bad, but the needle was comically small in his steady hands, and it very easily punctured the sensitive skin in between his thumb and pointer finger. He flipped over his phone, absentmindedly sucking on the pricked spot. He was momentarily stunned that it was both a lot later than he remembered it being, and that John was texting him; they rarely, if ever, texted during movie night. something bad must have happened.  He tried to push away the small stab of fear he felt in his heart, and set the silk carefully on the table, needle still halfway through a stitch.

 

 

[11:13] hey herc

[11:13] quick question

[11:13] have u seen alex

[11:13] or talked to him

_[11:14] no_

_[11:14] why, what happened?_

[11:14] some things

[11:14] some very regrettable things

_[11:14] im not going to pry, but know that im here for you, always_

_[11:15] but have you asked laf? they might know_

[11:15] no

[11:15] move to the gc w/o alex?

_[11:16] sure_

\--

[11:16] hey laf

[11:16] have u seen alex

[11:16] yes

[11:16] did he seem ok??

[11:16] more than okay

[11:17] he decided it was cool to come over and then insult me not even five minutes later

[11:17] so im going to guess hes just fine

[11:17] :)

_[11:17] he did /what/_

[11:17] laf holy shit are you ok??

[11:18] not really

[11:18] ill be fine tomorrow tho

[11:19] do you want either of us to come over??

[11:19] bc if u want I can be there in like ten minutes

_[11:20] yeah laf, are you up to company?_

[11:20] I honestly dont know? 

[11:20] im really tired so if you do come over itll only be to cuddle

_[11:20] I think I speak for everyone here, but if you need cuddles, we will be there as soon as possible_

[11:21] pls come over, both of you

[11:21] brb (be ready bitch)

 

 

-0-

 

 

Thankful he was only two floors down from Lafayette, he easily made his way to their dorm in a handful of minutes, armed with the softest blanket he had. Hercules knocked on the door to Lafayette’s dorm, and heard shuffling. It was a good thing that Hercules had practice in schooling his features, because it was obvious whatever Alexander had said had seriously affected Lafayette. Their eyes were red-rimmed, they avoided eye contact, and their entire posture was sagging. He could only compare them to Atlas, as they leaned against their door jamb; they looked to have the full weight of the world on their drooping shoulders, forcing them down. He resisted the urge to coo soothingly, knowing it would just make them bristle, and instead allowed a small sad smile to curve his lips. They glanced at his face, before looking down at the blanket he had draped over his arm.

“Can I come in?”

Lafayette’s shoulders seemed to tense at this, despite Hercules’ calm tone. It made him want to both wrap Lafayette in the blanket as tight as he could, and punch Alexander in the face.

“We don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

Lafayette nodded, and stepped back into their dorm, before collapsing onto their couch on their side, distant gaze set towards the tv. Hercules followed, draping the blanket over them, and they drew their knees up to their chest to make room. Hercules sat down before pulling their feet into his lap, and began to rub lazy circles onto the exposed skin of their ankles.

“Do you want me to talk while we wait for John to get here?”

A barely discernible nod, and Hercules quietly began to ramble about his project, detailing how to make certain flowers, tracing the necessary stitches on their ankles. He talked for around five minutes, and he could feel the way Lafayette was getting tenser and kept glancing at the artsy analog clock hung on their wall. He drummed his fingers against their ankle to recapture their attention, and sighed inaudibly at the slightly panicked look in their widened eyes.

“John owns his own apartment, remember? It’s way farther than just a few floors down, and he could simply be stuck in pedestrian traffic. It’s not all that late on a Thursday night, after all.”

Lafayette simply sighed, and drew their knees back up to their chest, picking sightlessly at a looser stitch in the blanket. “Yeah, but he said he would only take ten minutes, and we both know that when he’s… excited, for lack of a better word, about something, he’s very early. Scarily early, even.”

Hercules hummed, but before he could reply, a bang and badly muffled swearing in a familiar voice echoed out in the hallway, and he could see the way Lafayette relaxed. He placed a hand on Lafayette’s blanket clad thigh when they sat up, blanket flowing around them like water, and sent them a smile. “I’ve got the door.”

John practically barreled through the door when Hercules opened it, eyes locked on Lafayette’s slumped form. He brandished a plastic bag high in the air, letting out a little noise of triumph. Hercules snorted as he shut the door again.

“I have come bearing gifts for the lovely Laf! Sorry I was late, but hopefully this makes up for it?” John gave them the bag, sheepish smile on his face. Lafayette shot him a small smile, and hesitantly opened the bag, smile growing bigger when they pulled out a tub of their favorite ice cream and a small bag of Lindt truffles. They stood up, and both Hercules and John didn’t mention the way they quickly swiped a palm across their eyes.

“I’m going to get spoons. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Their kitchen was thankfully in another room, so as soon as the door closed behind them, John rounded on Hercules. “Can you set up Netflix while I get more blankets?”

Hercules smiled as he started towards the tv. “Of course; you and Laf really need this.”

John sighed, on his own mission to force open the stubborn door that is Lafayette’s linen closet. “Honestly, the thing with me and Alex was mostly my fault. I’m just really worried about Lafayette; Alex can get carried away when he’s upset, and he isn’t exactly the kindest when he’s worked up.”

Finished with the easier task of setting up Netflix on Lafayette’s tv, Hercules nudged John aside, trying his own hand at forcing the door open. He succeeded, but not before nearly whacking John in the face with it. “If Alexander was involved, I doubt some of it wasn’t also his fault. And ‘isn’t the kindest’ is a bit of an understatement. Remember that one time he made Seabury cry? When I cornered him after, he admitted he didn’t think he was that harsh.”

“Alex is just kinda hopeless at normal human interactions, huh?”

“Yeah. Help me set up the best blanket nest you can in the next few minutes.”

When Lafayette returned a few minutes later with three spoons and puffy red eyes, they were met by the sight of him and John casually snuggling, Hercules resting against the arm of the couch with an arm under John, and John attached to his side, arm thrown across his broad chest. At their small sniffle, both of them simply opened their arms, inviting them into the tangled mess of blankets. They silently accepted, gingerly resting their weight on Hercules’s thighs, legs folded over John’s thighs, ice cream tub in their lap. They gave everyone a spoon while John and Hercules made a joint effort to swaddle them in Hercules’ original blanket. They gave them a wavering smile.

“So I guess we’re having movie night after all, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this made me want to knit for whatever reason and i can now confidently say i am terrible at everything but finger knitting
> 
>  
> 
> hmu on tumblr: [fillertexted](http://fillertexted.tumblr.com)


	4. Alexander's Maelstrom

The light of his laptop was borderline blinding, his back ached like hell, he was freezing, but nothing mattered more than the fact that the Word document was bare; only a singular word etched in black ink decorated the screen. The cursor blinked a fast rhythm as it flickered between existence and the beyond; seemly mocking in the way it could do the impossible with little trouble, unlike himself. For once, Alexander had run out of words. His fingers itched with the urge to write, to decimate the laptop’s keyboard with fervent desperation, yet the only word that would come was _sorry_.

He was, for the record, sorry. Never before had Alexander felt such a soul-crushingly urgent request to make the declaration known. He wanted to say it in the smallest whisper, to scream it from the top of the highest skyscraper. He had been given tendrils of sunshine, touched by those who held the light in their hearts, and yet he was still dark, his heart still held nothing but crashing waves. Sorry wasn’t a strong enough word to encase the swirling cesspool of emotion he felt, to describe why he was incapable of just being satisfied with himself, to explain why he had fucked up.

And God, did he fuck up. He overstepped boundaries, had lashed out on undeserving victims, and yet had done nothing to resolve either issue. He simply sat on the floor, uncomfortable, with a blank mind and waves of self-loathing, fingers poised and hovering over a keyboard.

What a sad picture he made; slouching over a laptop that slowly scorched his thighs and sent too bright light directly into his retinas, all rounded shoulders curled towards his chest while he was all alone in a pitch black room, too ashamed to reach out, too afraid he’d mess up more.

His phone had been buzzing for so long, at that point. Alexander could see every time a new text came in, and knew it would only worsen his state of mind. He deserved to be miserable, though. He fucked up.

The screen brightness was all the way down, but it still managed to dazzle him. He was faced with a barrage of texts, and immediately felt drained. Passive-aggressive texts from Hercules, angry texts that were composed entirely with emojis from Peggy, a single sad face from Eliza, even a one from Burr, ‘ _Wait for it_.’ Possibly the scariest of them all was one from Angelica, which simply read ‘ _where are you?_ ’

He forced himself to answer, and told her he was in his dorm. Maybe he was a masochist. Angelica wouldn’t be afraid to rip him a new one, but she’d do it in the worst way possible. She’d insult him and lay out what he’d done wrong in layman’s terms, but then force him to talk about his feelings, something he hated to do. He definitely was a masochist. Angelica was an angel, truly, and he knew he needed to appreciate her more, but his heartstrings were snapped, the unending physical pain a crescendo.

Wallowing in self-pity was something Alexander never wanted to do. He was the one who fucked up, he couldn’t be hurt. He was the one who said the insults, not the one who received them. He wasn’t the one who had their boundaries crossed; he was the one who did the crossing. The one thing he didn’t want to do was to lose his friends, but he sure seemed to have burned that bridge. What could he do right at this point?

Three consecutive knocks sounded at the door, and for a moment, he was faced with a complete unwillingness to move. His limbs felt like lead. If he got up, he’d be forced to talk about his problems while being hugged or touched in some reassuring, comforting way. He shouldn’t have comforts, and the unforgiving position he was in on the floor was enough to make him feel like he was doing something vaguely right for once.

The knocking continued, and he stood, deliberately not stretching and not acknowledging the pins and needles that ran up and down his mostly numb legs. The pain was a reminder. He stayed hunched over to prolong the stiffness, and opened the door. He wasn’t quite prepared to be shoved back so forcefully that his legs gave out, but he deserved it. He sat, blinking, as the hall light silhouetted Angelica, giving her curly hair a backlit halo. He also got a glimpse of the thunderous expression on her face, and instinctively knew he would probably be verbally slapped into next week. Joy.

“Alexander.”

Her voice could instill fear into the hearts of the strongest men, and it was no different for Alexander. His heart skipped a beat at the immensely icy tone, and he mentally prepared himself for the lecture.

“Angelica.”

“Care to explain why I received this?”

Fuck. It was a screenshot of a group chat between John, Hercules, and Lafayette. He quickly read the few texts the screenshot was showing, and felt his face pale.

“Laf explains it pretty well, I think.”

He didn’t think it was possible, but her expression grew darker. “They do. Care to explain _why_ you said this to them?”

“Not really. Want to close the door?”

“You have been blessed with the best life.”

“I know.”

“ _Alexander_.”

“Look, I’m fine with you yelling at me, but I’d rather have the illusion of privacy while it happens. It’s late.”

“Fine.” Angelica’s skirt whirled around her in a graceful circle, and the swaying material was somehow hypnotic. So hypnotic, in fact, he flinched at the sound of the loudly closed door. The room was shrouded in darkness, and he felt oddly trapped and alone. Closing his eyes just amplified the feeling, but he deserved to suffer, and stubbornly kept them closed even when his eyelids turned red. The gentle slap on the cheek was a bit startling though, and his eyes flew open against his will. Traitors.

“Alex.”

Why was she concerned? Her eyes shined with the emotion as she scanned his face, and she brought a hand to gently cup his slapped cheek, and oh, _oh_. He was crying. He hadn’t noticed, but as her thumb swept under his eye, he felt the previously unknown dam begin to break. His face crumpled, eyes scrunched up, and a sob tore its way out of his throat. Angelica started making quiet cooing noises and tugged him to her chest, letting him fist at her loose shirt and bury his face in her shoulder, immediately darkening the fabric. 

The position wasn’t overly comfortable, with him half arched into her shoulder. He knew her knees would kill by the way they were pressing harshly into the floor, but he really hoped she didn’t care. Angelica whispered menial statements while rubbing his back. Alexander wept bitterly into her shoulder, feeling undeserving in her comfort, but unable to deny himself the security she brought.

He tried valiantly to compose himself and drew back, using the backs of his hands to catch wayward tears, eyes locked on the wet patch on Angelica’s shoulder. His face was most likely blotchy and his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and he felt self-conscious and guilty.

“So,” his voice cracked, and he tried to clear his throat, but there was a lump in the way, so he sighed shakily and began again, ignoring the cracks and tremble in his voice. “So. I fucked up, and you came here to yell at me, and I just kind of started to cry on you. That was rude, I’m sorry. Sorry to fuck up your plan; feel free to insult me now.”

Angelica sighed so heavily her shoulders moved with it. “Alex, look, I came here to talk to you, not yell at you.”

“Why not? Yelling at me is a way better plan than just talking. Apparently the louder you talk, the better things get through my thick skull, and I suggest you try it.”

“Why do you want me to yell at you?”

Alexander shrugged. The wet patch seemed to be getting blurrier. “Seems like the right thing to do. Someone fucks up, someone else yells at them because they fucked up, then the situation gets resolved.”

“In what world? Alex, I’m not denying the fact that you messed up pretty bad, but I can see it’s affecting you too. Yelling at you won’t solve anything.”

He was crying again, but he felt numb against the hot trails. “I’m not supposed to feel like this. The person who messed up shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t be sad.” His voice was thin.

There was a brief silence, where Angelica reached out to put a hand on his knee while he sniffled. “You’re such a little fuck, you know that?”

They were back on familiar ground now, with insults. “Of course I do,” he huffed, “I’m the one deciding to be a little fuck, remember?”

“That you are. But the fact that you’re hurt by this means something, Alex. There are always two sides to a story.”

He focused the hand on his knee. She had on a wine nail polish, and the edges were badly chipped. He knew it was because she had the habit of picking at her nails whenever she was bored or upset. Her fingers were slender and long, graceful looking.

“Alex.

Her palm radiated a lot of heat, more than he thought was possible from just a hand. Maybe he was just cold, but it felt like fire through his jeans. He wanted her to remove her hand.

“Alex.”

He wanted to hide in her embrace until he felt like a person again.

“Alexander, c’mon, I can’t help you fucks get over whatever this is if you don’t tell me what happened.”

He took a deep breath and finally met her eyes.

“I think I’m in love with them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost time 4 my emotionally constipated emo 6th grader to reconcile w/ everyone  
> sorry this is so short but heres to hoping the last chapter is way longer
> 
> hmu on tumblr: [fillertexted](http://fillertexted.tumblr.com)


	5. Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda graphic panic attack takes up a majority of the chapter

His phone was clutched loosely in his right hand, messages from Hercules still displayed on the screen. His left was in a fist, raised and inches away from the door in front of him. Alexander knew everyone was gathered and waiting in anticipation for him. Trepidation was bubbling up inside him as well, but he relaxed his hand, resting his palm against the cool door.

There were two options. Knock on the door and face the inevitable shitstorm head on, or run away like a coward. He knew Angelica would be on his ass if he ran again. Telling her the full story felt like a weight lifting from his shoulders, though he had been slapped hard enough to send stars into his vision. Finally figuring out what kind of feelings he had for his friends and how much he liked them, was therapeutic in a way, acknowledging that he liked them a lot.

Love. That he loved them a lot.

The people he loves the most sit somewhere in the room in front of him, ready and willing to welcome him back with sad smiles but open arms, to listen to him accidentally start rambling instead of apologizing. He doesn’t deserve them, not at all. He doesn’t deserve their unwavering kindness, the way they seem to understand how his mind works without explanation, how they accept the way he can’t be normal.

The door under his splayed palm trembled slightly, and it took him a second to realize he had banged his head against it. With his luck, everyone inside was probably aware he was hovering just outside the door now, and he didn’t know whether to be panicked or happy this was finally getting resolved. He felt an odd mix of the two, come to think of it. He felt the door start to give way, and quickly stepped back, feeling adrenaline coursing through him. He could do this. The door opened.

He saw the careful blankness of Hercules’ face, and felt his stomach drop. He was often the most expressive of the group, both through facial expressions and body language, and not being able to read him left Alexander feeling unsettled.

“Come in, then.”

His voice was cold. At least that was some indicator on his mood; definitely angry, probably deeply disappointed, almost certainly questioning why he’s friends with such a fuck up. Maybe after the conversation, Alexander would lose all of their friendships. That was probably why he felt frozen, feet firmly refusing to move and body tensed. He could feel his hands shaking, and averted his eyes away from the unforgiving iciness of Hercules’ expression, instead seeking solace from the floor.

If Hercules was this upset, what were the others like? John would probably be furious with him, barely even stopping to spit something at him before exploding violently. Lafayette would just have a smile plastered on their face that didn’t quite reach their eyes, and there would be a new, tense distance between them. He didn’t know which one would be worse.

He hadn’t even thought about what would happen when he stepped into the dorm. How would everyone react? How would _Alexander_ react? What emotions would they all feel; would they even believe him when he said he was sorry? Would they accept the apology just to shut him up and harbor a growing hatred of him while he was unaware? Would it all blow up in his face and leave him alone in the rubble and dust again?

He was on the floor, back pressed against a freezing wall. It was odd to realize he had moved without thought, without memory of the action. Everything was too much, overwhelming in the worst possible way. He saw he was trembling and felt more panicked when he couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop like he couldn’t stop when he fucked up his friendships, and couldn’t just leave one friendship in shambles and had to hurt them all. His chest burned and his lungs felt small, throat closing. Tears sent hot trails down his cheeks, blurring his vision and making it that much more difficult to breathe.

Noises were far away and muddled. What sounded like a footsteps and a door closing seemed to be miles away, a voice even further. Something touched his shoulders, and he reactively flinched away, prying open his eyes. He was faced with Hercules, who seemed to get distressed when they made eye contact. He had managed to fuck up without speaking; that has got to be a first, even for him. Hercules stepped away, and oh, he was alone. Shit, he managed to drive everyone he loved away, how else could he fuck up?

Then he was being smothered by something soft, and he clawed desperately at the fabric covering his face. There was a small thump beside him, and an arm was gently placed on his shoulder. He looked over, and there was Lafayette, weak smile on their face.

He breaks, and suddenly he’s collapsing into their side, gasped apologies spewing from his mouth. He couldn’t really tell what he was saying, but he tried to let them know he was sorry, that he regretted it, that he didn’t mean it, didn’t mind if they hated him, until he was simply attempting to mouth the words into their shoulder, heavy sobs racking his body. They held him through it, running a soothing hand slowly up and down his back. It was ironic, really, how the one he had hurt the most was comforting him, and he lets out a choked bitter laugh. They just hold him tighter.

Alexander gets a handle on himself eventually, but continues to lean against Lafayette, feeling drained and uncomfortable. All he wanted to do was find somewhere quiet to curl up in a ball and pretend everything was alright. It wasn’t realistic, of course; he still had to deal with everyone, but under the blanket with Lafayette’s calming presence and warmth, he felt his thoughts becoming more collected. He lets the blanket fall from his shoulders, and rubs at his eyes, clearing them of tears.

He forces himself up, legs shaky and ready to collapse at a moment’s notice. He takes a second to lean against the wall and just _breathe_. Lafayette joins him, still silent, and offers up a hand. He takes it, gently interlocking their fingers, takes another deep breath, and turns back to the door. He could do this.

When they stepped into the room together, the others snapped their gazes towards them. Hercules was staring at their clasped hands; John was visually tracing the tear tracks still on Alexander’s cheeks. The scrutiny was enough to send a jolt through his heart, and he took a small half-step back. Lafayette squeezed his hand, offering silent support.

Another deep breath, and he lets go of Lafayette’s hand, instead moving towards the couch. He sits in a corner, drawing his knees up to his chest and keeps his hands in his lap, picking absently at his cuticles as everyone else follows his lead and takes a seat. Lafayette curls up by themself on their small loveseat, mimicking his pose. Hercules and John take the open cushions next to him, keeping their distance while still near. Alexander drops his gaze back to his hands and sighs. Quietly, he begins.

“John,” He looks up, and makes brief eye contact from a slightly-startled looking John, “You’ve been acting weird for a while. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t know if I was just imagining it or something, but tonight, I knew I wasn’t. When you said that it was nothing, that you weren’t uncomfortable, I was hurt. You can tell me if something I do bothers you, you know? I’ve noticed that you’ve been more distant lately. I’m sorry for earlier.”

John has a peculiar look on his face, and if Alexander didn’t know better, he’d have said John looked stricken. He takes another deep breath before shooting a quick glance at Lafayette.

“Laf, I came to you because I didn’t want to bother Herc. It was a big mistake on my behalf, because I was in a terrible headspace, and I let my fear turn into anger when you didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. You have such healthy relationships and are really good with people, and I guess I’m lowkey jealous about that. I’m really sorry I snapped at you, I didn’t mean any of it. You didn’t deserve it, and it was really wrong of me to say. I don’t really expect you to forgive me, just know I’m sorry.”

Lafayette’s eyes are shining with unshed tears, and he feels his heart breaking again, but he can’t stop now.

“Herc, I’m sorry I fucked up so bad you had to stop working on your project to come deal with it. I know it’s really important to you, and I hate that I distracted you from it.”

Alexander’s voice becomes quieter, his breaths become shakier, but he’s so close to being done, so close to finally getting everything off his chest. He rubs his fists against his eyes, getting rid of the tears still pooling up. He leaves his eyes closed.

“I love you, all of you. Romantically. With all of my heart. It’s fine if you don’t return those feelings, really, I don’t mind. It that makes any of you uncomfortable, just tell me, and I’ll do my best to, I dunno, _stop_ , I guess. All I ask is if you aren’t going to be my friend anymore, tell me? I’m awful with subtle hints, please just tell me directly.”

He hears shifting and shuffling, but it isn’t until a hand is placed on his arm that he looks up. Lafayette is sitting on the arm of the couch and has a small, hesitant smile on their face. Alexander manages a weak shadow of a smile before returning his gaze to his hands. Lafayette squeezes his arm before dropping their hand, and speaks.

“I’m not about to say what you did wasn’t harmful and I wasn’t upset because of it, because it hurt like hell and I was very upset. I forgive you, though. I love you too.”

Alexander’s gaze snaps up, sure he heard wrong. Based on the blush that graced Lafayette’s cheeks, however, he heard right. Lafayette loves him. Lafayette _loves_ him. A small genuine smile curls his lips. Beside him, John sucks in a sharp breath and talks, too.

“You dumb fuck, I wasn’t uncomfortable earlier, I just find you extremely attractive and I have a massive as all hell crush on you. Jesus, I was the opposite of uncomfortable earlier. I love you.”

Alexander knew his face was heating up, blush blotchy. Hercules clears his throat from beside John, and stands, coming to kneel in front of Alexander.

“Listen bud, all of us adore you and would never give up your friendship. Like, c’mon, we love you too. You can’t get rid of us that easily. My project can wait.”

Alexander is sure that his face is bright red, and can feel tears running down his cheeks, but a wide and uncontrollable grin is taking over his face. It dims, slightly, when he looks at the three of them.

“I, uh, want to date all of you? But, like, I don’t…” He trails off, glancing between them all.

“I love all of you losers,” John says with a shrug, “I’d be happy to date all of you.”

“Same,” Hercules says with a smile, “I’m in love with all of you, too.”

Lafayette laughs quietly, gazing at all of them with affection clear in their eyes. “I love each and every one of you, and would be honored to be your date mate.”

“That’s settled, then,” John says, and tugs Alexander into his chest, who lets out a surprised _oof_. “Let’s cuddle and sort out the specifics later.”

“Agreed.” Hercules says as he stands, and Lafayette nods.

Somehow, they end up with Hercules and John underneath Alexander and Lafayette, limbs everywhere and blankets piled on top of them. Alexander let out a tiny sigh, and burrows closer to whoever he’s on top of. A strong arm circles around his waist, and he knows it’s Hercules’.

“Hercules, Lafayette, never miss another movie night again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it is done, holy shit sorry it took so long to finally finish this lmao
> 
> send all of your love to the amazing [lafayettes-baguette](http://lafayettes-baguette.tumblr.com) i love them and theyve betad this fic and deserve the entire world yknow
> 
> on to smaller and more terrible things i guess
> 
> hmu on tumblr: [fillertexted](http://fillertexted.tumblr.com)


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